(Yuuta's POV)
"So… how exactly do dragons learn to fly?" I asked Erza, watching our daughter zoom around the garden like a maniac, arms flailing above her head.
Erza didn't even blink. "Simple. First, we need to give her a push."
"Pardon?" I narrowed my eyes.
She turned to me, dead serious. "It's easy. We just need to throw her into a real-life situation."
I followed her gaze toward Elena, who was currently sprinting in circles while yelling, "Yah! Papa! I'm a cheetah! Yahhh!"
I pointed at the little dragon-cheetah hybrid and turned back to Erza. "Wait, you're telling me… you're actually going to push our daughter off something just to activate her flight instinct? Are you insane?! I won't allow it!"
Erza scoffed. "Allow? I gave birth to that child. I decide what's best for her."
"Oh yeah?" I crossed my arms. "Well, I was the one who installed the emotional software. She's got her 'cute mode' and 'hug detector' thanks to me!"
"You mortal…"
"You evil dragon…"
She smirked. "Fine. Let's make a bet. You teach her with love and softness. I'll teach her with strictness and survival. Let's see whose method gets her airborne first."
"Fine by me." I cracked my knuckles. "I'll go first."
"Good," she said, already stepping back like a judge at the arena. "I'll be watching from a distance. Good luck… mortal."
"You're going to lose, my dear violent wife."
I ran toward Elena like a coach on a mission.
"Elena!" I called.
She stopped mid-run and turned, beaming. "Yes, Papa?!"
"Come here, sweetheart! It's time to learn how to fly!"
She zipped toward me, eyes shining. "Really?! You're gonna teach me to fly like Mama?!"
"Yes, my daughter," I said proudly. "But first… Papa needs to do a little research."
"Okay! Elena will warm up by doing dragon squats!" she said, immediately dropping into a wobbly crouch and roaring softly.
I pulled out my phone and typed the most logical thing I could think of:
"How to teach your dragon daughter to fly?"
The internet answered immediately.
"Dear user, based on your query, here is the address of the nearest mental hospital. Also, here's a helpline for emergency therapy. Please seek help."
…
I stared.
"What the—?!" I blinked. "Oh… right. Yeah. Guess that does sound insane to normal people."
I looked back at Elena, who was now flapping her arms while doing squats and chanting, "Fly! Fly! Fly!"
"Nope. Totally sane. Completely normal. Just another Tuesday with dragons."
I sighed.
"Alright," I whispered to myself. "Plan B: the Power of Dad."
I lifted Elena above my head like a proud father presenting a tiny dragon Simba to the sky.
"Alright, Elena! Time for lift-off! Flap those wings!"
"Okay, Papa!" she said, eyes sparkling.
She started flapping.
And kept flapping.
Nothing happened.
She was still just... dangling in my arms like an excited sack of potatoes with tiny wings.
"Elena, a little faster! Think like you're flying!"
She squinted hard, concentrating. "Elena is thinking! But…" she looked down at me, pout forming, "my wings don't work, Papa. Maybe they're broken."
"No, no! They just need some help!" I said, setting her down with newfound determination. "Time for Plan B! I'll run, you flap! Like a flying kite!"
"Yaaay! Papa kite method!"
I picked her up again and sprinted across the yard like a maniac. "FLAP NOW!"
She flapped wildly.
And for one glorious second—SHE FLEW. Like, legit, her little body caught air.
And then…
She looked down.
Mistake.
"AHHHHH—"
THUD.
She hit the ground with a soft crash, rolling onto the grass.
"Ow… Paaapaaa…" she whimpered, clutching her butt.
My heart stopped. "No no, don't cry! Don't worry! Papa knows magic!"
I tapped her nose gently. "Pain pain go away~"
She blinked… then giggled.
"Pain is gone!" she said, as if I just cast a real spell.
Score one for placebo parenting.
We tried everything after that—cardboard wings, trampoline bounce assists, jumping off a tiny slide. Even YouTube betrayed me. "Dragon flight tutorials" only led to more therapy ads.
An hour passed.
I collapsed on the grass, defeated, my hair looking like I'd survived a typhoon of toddler chaos.
I looked across the field.
There she was—Erza.
Laying on the grass like a supermodel on vacation. Arms folded behind her head, soaking in the sun, wearing that smug I-told-you-so expression.
"Erzaaa…" I groaned. "Your turn. I'm done. Officially out of dad fuel."
She opened one eye and yawned. "Hmph. Looks like my sweet, silly husband couldn't teach our daughter to fly."
"Oh, really?" I said. "Let's see you try. Bet you'll fail harder."
She stretched her arms above her head like she was about to perform a sacred dragon ballet. "Don't compare me to you. I'm in a whole different league."
I rolled my eyes. "Let's see the so-called elite dragon method, then."
She smirked.
And then—
She closed her eyes.
In a heartbeat, her wings burst out from her back—massive, white, glowing softly in the afternoon light. The grass fluttered around her, as if even nature bowed to her power.
My jaw dropped.
"…Holy crap," I whispered. "That's… beautiful."
I reached out, touching one carefully.
It was soft like silk paper, but sturdy—like folded lightning. A strange, smooth texture. A living work of art.
"Please be gentle when you touch my wings," Erza said in the softest, cutest voice I'd ever heard.
"Eh?!" I blinked. "Wait, are you blushi—?"
WHAM!
Next thing I knew, I was face-first in the dirt, dazed.
"What the hell?!"
"That was for touching my wings without permission," she said, arms crossed and eyes fierce.
"But you literally—UGH never mind."
She didn't even look back. With one powerful flap, she lifted off into the sky like a goddess of wind. In two more flaps, she soared smoothly toward Elena, who was still pulling grass like she planned to replant it somewhere else.
Alright. Mom mode: activated.
Let's see what this dragon queen has in store…
Erza landed gracefully beside Elena, her wings folding behind her like a queen walking onto a battlefield.
"Elena," she said gently, reaching out her hand. "Come to Mama."
Like an innocent little angel, Elena giggled and skipped over without hesitation.
I tilted my head. Oh? She's being gentle? Maybe she'll give her advice. Teach her how to control wind flow or body posture. Maybe whisper ancient dragon wisdom passed down through her bloodline.
Then—
WHOOSH!
Erza grabbed Elena's hands and LAUNCHED HER INTO THE SKY LIKE A ROCKET.
"WHAT. THE. HELL?!"
I sprinted toward her like a panicked father at a theme park malfunction.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" I screamed, sprinting toward her in horror. "ARE YOU CRAZY?! WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!"
Erza yawned. "Don't overreact, mortal. I simply gave her a little push."
"PUSH?! PUSH?! You threw our child into orbit! That wasn't parenting—that was a missile test! Are you trying to throw her into the sun?!"
She rolled her eyes. "You mortal," she said with a shake of her head, "just shut up and watch. My method works."
With two powerful flaps of her majestic wings, she soared into the sky, chasing after our airborne daughter—who was now very much falling.
Meanwhile—
"YEEEAAAAAHHHH—Elena is FALLINGGGG!!!" I could hear her tiny voice scream from the sky like a very enthusiastic meteor.
"No, no, no—!" I panicked. "DEAR LORD SHE'S FALLING—"
I started praying to every god I knew. And a few I made up.
But Erza reached her just in time, floating beside her mid-air with flawless control.
I shielded my eyes from the sun, trying to make out what they were saying. I couldn't hear much, but Erza was calmly instructing her, flapping her wings slowly, demonstrating with that cold elegance of hers.
At that moment, something magical happened.
Elena… stopped falling.
Her wings spread wide.
She wasn't dropping like a rock anymore—she was gliding.
Then she flapped.
Once.
Twice.
Wobbly, unbalanced—but with pure joy on her face.
"PAPA!!" she yelled from the sky. "LOOK! I'M FLYING! ELENA IS FLYING!!"
I fell to my knees, tears welling in my eyes.
Not tears of pride.
Tears of shock-induced survival.
I waved like a proud wreck of a man. "GOOD JOB, SWEETIE! YES! KEEP GOING! JUST—JUST DON'T LOOP-DE-LOOP OR ANYTHING!!"
She zoomed around in a clumsy circle, her wings catching the sunlight like she was some kind of glittering sky noodle. Erza flew beside her, elegant and smug like always—like she knew this would happen the whole time.
I flopped backward onto the grass, staring at the sky.
"That's it. I'm done. I'm retiring from parenting."
My heart was still pounding in my chest.
Elena was flying.
Erza's crazy method worked.
And me?
I was one airborne toddler away from needing a defibrillator.
To be continue.....